


Cover Art

by obi_ki



Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: First Time, M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-18
Updated: 2011-05-18
Packaged: 2017-10-19 13:33:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/201406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obi_ki/pseuds/obi_ki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it take an outsider's viewpoint to open people's eyes</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cover Art

Paring: Qui-Gon/Obi-Wan

Spoilers: none

Disclaimers: Everything Star Wars belongs to George Lucas and Lucasfilms. I am just playing in his world, borrowing the boyz and their accomplices and will return them all when I'm through. No money is being made from this, it is all done for entertainment only.

Authors Notes: This story was written for the Party like is 1999 Ficathon, challenge #13, first time, the boys realize their feelings for each other due to some outside factor.

This story is dedicated to Fuumin for the amazing Q/O dojinshi and zine art that she has created over the years as well as all the other wonderful artists who have provided visual representations of our beloved Master and Padawan in their various incarnations. Those drawings, icons, vids and photo-manips have been the inspirations for hundreds and hundreds of wonderful fics as well as providing the obvious pleasure derived by viewing them. We bow to your talents and hope you will all continue to recreate the boyz for us for many years to come.

Thanks to Monalee and Merry Amelie for the betas. Their comments and suggestions have definitely improved the story but as always I couldn't resist making a few additional changes so all mistakes are mine. Feedback of any kind is always appreciated, onlist or privately at kiowkqgj@yahoo.com

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As he and Qui-Gon walked through the streets of the Riflor capitol in the direction of their guest quarters, Obi-Wan noticed the excessive amount of attention that they seemed to be drawing. No matter where they went or what they did, people were pointing and whispering and gawking. It was as if these individuals thought they were were holo-actors like Lyiam Ney'son or Ewyan Mcgre'or, or famous musicians like the Starboys or the Modal Nodes, not simply Jedi.

This was their third mission to Riflor and it was honestly nothing more than a ceremonial presence, but for some reason people were reacting very differently to them this time. Their first mission had been fraught with danger and intrigue. The Crown prince had been kidnapped by a group of extremists who felt that the monarchy had outlived it usefulness and should be replaced by an elected leader of their choosing. It had taken all their cunning and ability to get the boy back unharmed and to bring those responsible to justice. Their second visit, two years later, was more routine, to negotiate a trade agreement with the other four planets in the system and, although less perilous, had required weeks of talk to broker the numerous concessions needed to finally facilitate the agreement. Their current mission was just for the renewal of that treaty and was requiring very little in the way of negotiation to come up with a final draft of the new document.

They were about two blocks from their quarters when Qui-Gon stopped in front of a mid-sized cafe. "How about we try here for late-meal, Obi-Wan? I think I'd like something different than the hotel dining room."

Thinking of how the hotel staff had been staring at them the last two nights, Obi-Wan was quick to agree but found himself disappointed when they crossed through the open doorway. The young woman serving as hostess gawked at them open-mouthed for at least a minute. He finally broke the silence. "Two, for late-meal, please?"

"Certainly. This way, please," she stammered, grabbing two menus and leading them to a secluded table in a little alcove by an interior fishpond. "Our best table, so that you gentlemen can have some privacy."

"Thank you," Obi-Wan replied, though her comment seemed a bit odd to him.

"You are very welcome, Ser Jedi," she answered with a blush. She poured them each a glass of water and then smiled. "Your server will be with you momentarily."

"Thank you." As soon as the woman was out of ear-shot, Obi-Wan turned to Qui-Gon. "Doesn't her behavior seem a bit odd to you, Master? Why would we need privacy?" He glanced back at her and could see that a small group of other employees had gathered around her.

"Some people find Jedi intimidating," Qui-Gon replied. "Maybe she is aware that we are on planet for the treaty negotiations and thinks we could be discussing confidential information?"

"I don't think so." Obi-Wan nodded towards the group by the hostess desk. "Look at them. They're trying to act like they're not looking at us but you can tell that they're talking about us. What is it that they find so intriguing?"

Qui-Gon looked from Obi-Wan to the group and back again, and then chuckled softly. "Well, it's not like this would be the first time you've been propositioned on a mission. You're twenty-four years old, an attractive human male and a Jedi padawan. Alone, each of those things would make you appealing to many people; together, they create a package that most would find difficult to resist."

Trying hard not to gape at Qui-Gon's comment, Obi-Wan countered, "But I'm not the only one they are staring at. I've noticed people staring at you the same way."

One eyebrow arched in affront as Qui-Gon replied, "Just because I'm no longer twenty-four doesn't mean that others would no longer find me attractive."

"I know that. People drool over your sexy body all the time," Obi-Wan snapped before he could censor himself. Luckily, the server's appearance saved Obi-Wan from immediately having to deal with his too-honest remark.

The server was a man a few years younger than Obi-Wan and he appeared only slightly less in awe of them than the hostess had been. "Good eve, Ser Jedi. Please accept this bottle of Riflori sontau wine, compliments of the café's management." He placed two fluted glasses on the table and slowly filled them to the brim with the pale green liquid from the bottle he held in his hand. "This is a celebratory vintage, created in honor of Prince Leor's coming of age."

"Relay our thanks to the café's management," Qui-Gon replied.

They spent the next few minutes discussing the menu and making decisions about their meals and when the server stepped away to take their orders to the kitchen, Qui-Gon smiled. "Well, it appears that we've found the cause of all the staring and whispering. Prince Leor's coming of age must have brought the story of his kidnapping and rescue back into the public eye and therefore made us minor celebrities."

Obi-Wan glanced back at the employees gathered by the hostess desk and at the patrons occupying tables around the room. There was something more about the way they were being looked at - something almost conspiratorial. "I don't think so, Master. These people are not looking at us like they're grateful that we rescued their future king from the hands of terrorists." He thought about it for a moment, reached out with the Force to feel what these people were looking for and finally came up with the only comparison that made any sense to him. "It's as if Krik Johan was having dinner with his latest boy-toy at the Manarai and people were watching to see if they could catch a glimpse of them doing anything in the booth."

The server bringing their appetizers delayed Qui-Gon's reply. After the plates of trimpian slices with miasra sauce and bivoli tempari were placed in front of them, Qui-Gon looked incredulously at Obi-Wan. "You've been watching too many gossip holo-shows, Padawan. I'm certain no one in this establishment or anywhere else on Riflor has any interest in what you and I do or say in our private time."

Watching the teenage boy staring over at them from across the room, Obi-Wan could only snort in disbelief. "As you say, Master."

Qui-Gon did not bother to comment on the lack of sincerity in that response and the two men tucked into their food without any further discussion on the subject.

Wine glasses were refilled as the appetizers disappeared and their main courses were delivered, and by the time his third glass of wine was half empty, Obi-Wan no longer cared about the staring hordes. He and Qui-Gon were having an enjoyable meal and a pleasant conversation, just the two of them. They were warm, dry and comfortable, there were no diplomats to cajole and no one was shooting at them, so who was he to look a gift bantha in the mouth.

They decided to share a decadent puff-pie covered in Antaran choco for dessert and were just starting to eat it when the teenage diner who had been staring at them earlier walked timidly up to their table.

"Excuse me for interrupting your meal, Ser Jedi, but would you sign my dajinfri, please?" he asked politely.

Obi-Wan gasped in shock as he got a look at the cover of the book that the young man was pressing into his hand. Although drawn in the exaggerated style of Riflori artists, it was a relatively accurate rendition of him and Qui-Gon. "What is this?" he asked as he passed the thin paper volume to his master.

"It's the first volume of a dajinfri series that is based on you and your master, Padawan Kenobi," the boy explained.

Only his hard-learned skills as a diplomat kept him from choking on the bite of pastry in his mouth. Luckily, Qui-Gon came to the rescue.

Pointing to an empty chair, Qui-Gon addressed the young man. "Why don't you have a seat and start at the beginning. I am Master Qui-Gon Jinn, as I am sure you are aware, and you are?"

The boy looked more than a little nervous but did as he was asked. "I am Roan Moyet and I have all twenty volumes of the adventures of Judai Master Quint Jinon and his Apprentice Obian Kenbi." He smiled shyly and continued, "A dajinfri is a small bound book, twenty to forty pages, made up of panes of drawings with short lines of dialog that tell a story, usually an action-adventure with a touch of romance."

"And these stories are based on us?" Obi-Wan asked, finally finding his voice again.

"Well, if you asked officially, the publishers would probably say the characters are totally fictitious, but it's easy to see that they are based on you two, especially if you are a native of Riflor," Roan explained. "The very first volume, which is the one you are holding, Master Jinn, was based on your first mission here when Crown Prince Leor was kidnapped."

"And the other volumes?" Qui-Gon asked.

"A few take place on Riflor but most occur on other planets," Roan said. "One is set during the time that you were here to negotiate the Juvex treaty five years ago but I think the spice ring they have you breaking up was fabricated."

Obi-Wan reached out his hand for the book. He flipped through it, eyes widening with each turn of the page. "This is basically the story of the Prince's rescue." He scanned the pictures and the dialog, noting some minor embellishments but finding the crux of the story factual. Only the last two pages contained depictions that had no basis in reality. Master Jinon's arm was wrapped rather possessively around Apprentice Kenbi's waist as they strolled up the ramp of their sleek gray Cutlass-9 starship.

"So these books are read for entertainment?" Qui-Gon asked.

"Yes. People tend to start reading them as children but many continue to follow their favorite artist well into adulthood." Roan glanced between the two Jedi and explained further. "The dajinfri form of storytelling is very popular in the Riflori culture. It is considered a great honor to be immortalized beneath the stylus of one of the dajinfri masters and Irwe Nimuuf is considered the best of modern times."

"And the artist will do multiple stories about the same subjects?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Oh, yes, especially if the characters are popular, like you and your Master, Padawan Kenobi," the young man exclaimed. "'Judai KnightsRescue of a Prince' is on its twelfth reprint. No other dajinfri in the history of the genre comes even close to that statistic."

Obi-Wan didn't need to look around the small café to know that everyone in it was again focused in their direction. At least now he understood why. "And where are these books sold?"

"Mostly in small shops that specialize in dajinfri and other forms of local art," Roan said. He looked over at the chrono behind him and then continued, "There's a shop a few blocks from here called 'Velveita' but it's closed now."

Picking up the stylus the boy had set down on the table earlier, Qui-Gon took the book from Obi-Wan and affixed his signature along the bottom edge of his avatar's cloak. Handing the book and stylus to his padawan, he turned back to Roan. "Thank you for explaining about the dajinfri. It has been very enlightening."

Copying his master's lead, Obi-Wan signed along the hem of Apprentice Kenbi's cloak and then handed both the stylus and book back to Roan. "All we ask is that this item not leave your possession. We would be disturbed to hear that this autographed dajinfri found its way up for sale to the highest bidder on one of the interweb auction sites."

"I would never do that, Padawan Kenobi," Roan insisted. "As a first edition volume, this was already one of my most prized possessions. Now, there is nothing or no one that could make me part with it. Thank you." He rose from his seat, gave a half bow and almost ran back to where his family sat waiting for him.

When Roan had left them, Obi-Wan couldn't keep the smug grin off his face. "So is this where I get to say, 'I told you so', my Master?"

Qui-Gon shook his head and chuckled. "It appears that you do, my Padawan. Not quite Krik Johan but on Riflor it seems we may be the next best thing." He picked up his fork and broke off a large piece of the puff-pie. "Wait until the Council hears about this."

That comment sent Obi-Wan into fits of laughter and it was a few minutes before he was able to start back on his dessert.

They finally paid the bill and headed back to their lodging. At least now, the attention they were drawing made more sense and Obi-Wan was able to stop obsessing about it. A group of teenage boys outside the hotel were especially animated, so he unclipped his lightsaber from his belt and waved the hilt at them in mock salute. When Qui-Gon raised his eyebrow in query, he smiled, "Hey, it's better than being shot at so I figured I'd play along."

Nothing more was said when they reached their suite. They took turns in the refresher, shared their normal nighttime meditation and each headed to his own bed, as they had an early start the next day. Obi-Wan's dreams were filled with random images of cartoon superheroes and flashes of Qui-Gon's arm wrapped possessively around his waist.

Morning brought showers, meditation and a light first-meal in their suite, during which they reviewed the material for the final negotiations. There was no time to discuss last night's revelation and that pattern continued throughout the day. They each spent mid-meal with different factions discussing concessions and worked on rewrites and addenda until minutes before the actual treaty signing took place. They didn't even have time to go back to their quarters to change before attending the formal banquet marking the ratification and signing of the new treaty, and it was almost midnight when they arrived back at the hotel.

They were walking through the lobby when a voice called out. "Master Jinn, Padawan Kenobi." Obi-Wan turned to see a middle-aged man in a bellman's uniform walking towards them. "A young man dropped this parcel off for you this afternoon." Into Obi-Wan's hands he placed a brown-wrapped package, about an arm-length long and twice as wide and thick. A small white envelope was taped to the top of the package.

"Thank you, Ser," Obi-Wan said. When the man turned away, Obi-Wan looked up at Qui-Gon. "Were you expecting anything, Master?"

"No," Qui-Gon replied. He placed his hand on the package and reached out with the Force to inspect it. "I sense nothing untoward in it, so I suggest we open it and see what it is."

It took only a couple minutes to get to the suite, remove their cloaks and boots and settle down onto the sofa with the package. Obi-Wan opened the envelope and pulled out a plain blue card, lettered in neat block writing.

Master Jinn and Padawan Kenobi,

I thought you might enjoy reading the  
adventures of Judai Master Quint Jinon  
and Apprentice Obian Kenbi.

Hope you like them.

Roan

Obi-Wan placed the card on the table and ripped through the brown paper. Beneath it was a stack of dajinfri, a total of twenty in all, starting with volume one, 'Judai KnightsThe Rescue of a Prince', and ending with volume twenty, 'Judai KnightsThe Orion Debacle'. Each cover contained a drawing, sometimes of both of them, sometimes of only one. Although Qui-Gon's avatar looked pretty much the same from volume one to volume twenty, Obi-Wan's changed much in the same way Obi-Wan had aged over those seven years. The Apprentice Kenbi of volume one was obviously a seventeen-year-old boy but the Apprentice Kenbi of volume twenty was definitely a twenty-four-year-old man.

Propping his feet up on the low table in front of him, Obi-Wan placed the pile beside his feet and picked up volume one. "Since we don't have to be up early tomorrow, I think I will read for a bit. Care to join me?"

Qui-Gon looked at the books and then over at Obi-Wan and smiled. "I think I'll shower first."

"Okay," Obi-Wan said.

Rising from the sofa, Qui-Gon asked, "Want anything before I go?"

"Nah," Obi-Wan replied distractedly, already absorbed in the pages before him.

The drawings were very detailed and, although the dialog was sparse, between the two it was easy to follow the story. The facial expressions of the characters supplemented the dialog and the non-verbal inflections gave strength to the characters. The artist had Qui-Gon's eyebrow raise down pat and had even caught the light crinkles in the corners of his eyes when he laughed.

The one thing that Obi-Wan noticed by the time he got to volume three was that the characters were physical, especially Quint. He was always touching Obian  ruffling his hair, a hand on his arm, an arm around his shoulder or his waist. When Obian was stressed or afraid, he would lean against his master for comfort. By volume five, he noticed how often Obian was injured and Quint would have to take care of him. And during those times, Quint would stroke Obian's hair or hold his hand or caress his cheek. Tiny gestures that in and of themselves would seem like nothing, but added together pointed to something much more intimate than the average master/apprentice partnership.

Obi-Wan was halfway through volume six when Qui-Gon's voice drew him from his reading. "So have we saved the galaxy yet, Padawan?"

Looking up, the sight that greeted Obi-Wan took his breath away. Clad only in sleep pants with his damp hair hanging loose over his shoulders, a few stray droplets of water scattered over his broad chest, Qui-Gon was the epitome of male beauty. Although Obi-Wan had seen his master this way hundreds of times, it was as if he was seeing him with newly opened eyes. He shook himself out of his stupor as Qui-Gon sat down beside him. "Not the whole galaxy, Master, just parts of it," he managed after swallowing hard. "See for yourself," he added, handing him the volumes he had already read.

Going back to his reading, Obi-Wan tried to ignore the newly revealed allure of the man seated next to him but was finding it difficult. He finished volume eight and was halfway through volume nine when he felt a quick flash of surprise coming from Qui-Gon. He waited to see if his master would say anything but, when he did not, he went back to his reading.

The end of volume fourteen found Obi-Wan dealing with his own jolt of shock and he was not as good at concealing his emotions as his master. He dropped the dajinfri into his lap and struggled to smother the burst of arousal the image had caused.

"Obi-Wan? What is it?" Qui-Gon looked over at him with such concern that all Obi-Wan could think of was reenacting the scene from the drawing.

Picking up the book from Obi-Wan's lap, Qui-Gon opened it to the last page and scanned the images. Obi-Wan sensed the second Qui-Gon got to the picture in question and shifted to rise from the couch but a hand on his wrist stopped his movement.

"They're lovers." Qui-Gon studied the image for a few seconds more and then placed the book on the table. One large thumb stroked softly over the skin of Obi-Wan's wrist. "So it appears that your first assessment of the situation at the café was the more accurate one, Padawan," he added with a smile. "Must admit that I envy this Quint Jinon."

"Master?" Obi-Wan murmured, the feel of Qui-Gon's thumb stroking him sending rushes of blood someplace much lower.

"His missions are always successful, the Council always sees things his way and, most importantly, he gets the handsome Obian Kenbi as his lover," Qui-Gon admitted. "Too bad real life doesn't work the way fiction does."

It took longer than it should have for Qui-Gon's last comment to sink into Obi-Wan's lust-addled brain but it finally clicked. "You envy him? But why? You could have anyone, so why would you want a callow chap like me?"

"More like what would a gorgeous young man like you ever want with an old relic like me?" Qui-Gon countered.

"Pshaw!" Obi-Wan replied, the vehemence in his tone betraying more than he was aware of in the heat of the moment. "You repeatedly wipe the floor with not only me but almost every other person who challenges you in the salles, women and men lust after you in Temple as well as on missions and you turn heads and command respect and attention just by walking into a room. 'Old relic' is the last phrase I would use to describe you, my Master."

Qui-Gon looked up at Obi-Wan in surprise. "Are you saying that you too are feeling a touch of envy towards your fictional counterpart?"

Obi-Wan glanced down at the hand still resting against his wrist and then back up at the man beside him, drawing a deep breath before answering. "Until tonight, I can honestly say I had really not considered it  well, ignoring the requisite hormonal crush I had when I was sixteen. You have been my teacher, father, brother and closest friend since I was thirteen years old, and I have been happy and content with that relationship. We have shared almost every facet of our lives and I trust you implicitly. I know that I can come to you with any problem or issue and you will be there for me. But reading these tales about our avatars has my mind venturing into places it has never been before."

Reaching down, Obi-Wan twined his fingers with the large hand against his. "Your hands have taught, healed, corrected and even punished me over those years, but tonight I find that I want to feel those hands on my body for an altogether different reason. I want those hands touching me in passion, finding all the tiny spots that will make me moan and cry out, that will make me writhe and beg and then I want to use my hands to do the same to you."

The quick intake of breath from Qui-Gon made Obi-Wan's heart speed up but the verbal response he got surprised him. "Just tonight?"

Deciding to be more like his avatar and forego speech for action, Obi-Wan placed his free hand behind Qui-Gon's neck and pulled the man to him for a kiss. After a moment of shock, firm lips softened beneath his and Qui-Gon deepened the kiss. Lips parted and tongues twined and the kiss went on until they were both panting and very aroused.

Qui-Gon wrapped Obi-Wan's braid around his fingers and looked into his would-be lover's eyes. "Are you sure about this, Obi-Wan? Because I don't know how we'd manage if we started down this path and you decided it wasn't what you wanted."

"I'm sure, Qui-Gon. This may be a sudden development, but it's right. " Obi-Wan closed his eyes for a moment and reached out into the Force. His sense of the future held no warning about them embarking on this path, only a strong sense of rightness, that this was what they were meant to do. "We are meant to take this path, to deepen our relationship. Maybe the Force has some ulterior motive in this but I find that I really don't care."

Obi-Wan rose carefully from the couch, his braid still entwined in Qui-Gon's fingers, and drew his master to his feet. "What are you always telling me, Master? Let's live in the moment and let the future take care of itself."

Qui-Gon chuckled before leaning in to place a gentle kiss on Obi-Wan's lips. "I must admit that this is the most pleasant instance I have ever had of having my teachings turned against me." He turned in the direction of the bedroom and tugged on Obi-Wan's braid. "As you said, we don't have to be up early in the morning. Would you care to join me in my bedroom where we can endeavor to emulate Quint and Obian?" Blue eyes glinted with mischief as he added, "Unless you feel you need to read the rest of the adventures to bone up on your skills."

Obi-Wan pushed Qui-Gon's fingers down his body. "I don't expect I'll have any trouble boning up. Lead on, my Master. I find there are many things I'd like to experience before the suns rise in the morning." He grabbed Qui-Gon's other hand and started walking. "So let's go do some intimate exploration. And tomorrow morning, if we have any energy left, we can read the rest of the dajinfri and see if we missed any of the techniques Quint and Obian perfected."

  
The end.


End file.
